


The Dawn King

by RollingTomorrow



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RollingTomorrow/pseuds/RollingTomorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The king must show the path to his people. This is the path I have chosen, it is my duty," Gaius would always say, his words clear above the sound of war drums. Though Wingul knew that Gaius' determination was unparallelled, a revolution was not easily won. Thrones are never usurped by clean hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Earliest Years

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of what will be a very, very long fic.
> 
> Some quick notes!
> 
> In the localization of Xillia, Karla uses Erston when referring to Gaius' birth name, while Wingul uses Arst. The most notable time we hear it is in his "Hidig'nun tun, Arst" (Forgive me, Arst) quote.
> 
> Since I started this back in June, I'm using Lin Long Dau as Wingul's birth name, as it was Romanized by the wonderful Taleslations blog on Tumblr.

Peaceful memories of his youngest years blended together, but the sight of all the lanterns illuminated in the Long Dau capital was one that remained clear in his mind. As a clan of many traditions, it was customary for them to celebrate when a child was born to the royal family. They were particularly elated when a prince was born to the tribe's patriarch, and decided to celebrate so elaborately that they invited the patriarchs of nearby clans to come to their city.

Patriarch Lars Long Dau and his wife were childless for some years, which led to some concern over the matter of the tribe's succession. Though Lars had three brothers who would be more than eager to step in should their eldest brother have any issue, but it was a custom set in stone for the title of patriarch to pass from father to son.

Many clans replied to the Long Dau invitation, though it came as no surprise. Even the smaller tribes who most likely had no desire to trek to the capital made the trip to give a prince who would need no luxury beyond what his family could provide. It was a tradition and traditions had to be upheld when the rulers with power insisted it.

The only good fortune of the trip was that the celebration was being held in Undis, when much of the snow was melted and the roads were clear. There were still some obstacles, like fallen trees obstructing the roads that connected smaller territories to the capital city, but the procession still made it to the event on time.

Even though the weather was improving, Arst was aware how the trip wore on his father. The Outway Patriarch was respected for his kindness and fair policies, but he was an older leader with his health declining rapidly. Just the trip to the capital was wearing on him, as much as he tried not to show it, Arst knew his father well enough to notice when he coughed longer than usual or took longer to dismount from a carriage.

The streets of the capital were full of carriages and wagons with supplies being brought for the celebration from all over Auj Oule. It seemed pointless for the poorer clans to be required to bring gifts to a prince who would have everything he could possibly want and more, but traditions were seldom questioned. As they progressed up the long staircase leading into the Long Dau palace, Arst couldn't help but frequently glance at his father, who was growing winded from the long walk. The Outway Patriarch did his best not to show it, as even weakness from illness was looked down upon in Auj Oule.

While the Long Dau palace was elegant and far more extravagant than anything in the Outway territory, Arst didn't find himself envying any of the luxuries, though the same couldn't be said for their guards. The only thing really worth noting was that their soldiers had notably better armor, but all of the other superiorities seemed like a waste of their citizens' money.

When they progressed deeper into the palace, they could see that the prince was surrounded by his three uncles, all of whom were speaking to each other in Long Dau. Yan, Ingo, and Bruno were brothers to Lars and enjoyed high military ranks. The exclusivity of who was taught the language allowed them to communicate privately even when they were surrounded by other people, but their tones alone shed light on the unflattering comments they were making about the lesser tribes.

Though it may not have been the capital of Auj Oule, as low tribes were never invited there, the country's hierarchy of power was clear wherever he looked.

~oOo~

The trip into Auj Oule's capital was a long one, even coming from Long Dau. Lin's mother objected initially, unhappy that her young son would be traveling so far in the cold months. Regardless, it was customary for princes of the powerful tribes to have a brief audience with the king. Of course, the honor was only extended to future patriarchs who were highborn.

When Lin was brought to the castle to meet King Merad Sarakhs, setting foot inside of the place filled him with an odd sense that it would not be for the last time. There were soldiers plentifully posted at all of the exits as well as along the walls; the king had no reservations in displaying the numbers his military possessed.

The palace itself was much larger and more extravagant than the castle of Long Dau, though it was terribly colder. The entrance hall felt cavernous, like a void that could have easily swallowed the small prince. The intricate carvings that decorated the ceiling seemed as high as the sky outside.

As they walked deeper into the entrance hall, Nils was stopped after a certain point, as someone lowborn was not welcomed before the king. The doors into the throne room were pushed open by two soldiers on each side, who all bowed respectfully once they were inside. They followed the protocol of showing proper reverence toward their ruler, though something about it seemed excessive as the shows of respect continued. The group of Long Dau royalty did not bow until they were directly in front of the throne.

Lin's first impression of the king was not an overwhelmingly positive one. Merad was an older man with a build that was not exactly ready to slip into a standard suit of armor, but more disappointing than that was his overly relaxed demeanor and the attendant walking away with a cup and an empty bottle of some sort of alcohol. It was still only the middle of the day.

Merad had no advisers at his side, only guards at the entrance and positioned in specific places along the walls. They, unlike the king, looked ready to spring at a moment's notice. Lin couldn't help but wonder about the king's lack of a present prime minster or adviser. Even Lin's father, with all of his overconfidence, at least kept advisers nearby.

Granted, Lars' brothers were hardly unbiased advisers, but something was better than nothing. Standing alone gave an impression of absolute power, but it also left him wondering just how many supporters the king really had.

Patriarch Lars was on good terms with the king and the two greeted each other formally before exchanging smiles and becoming slightly more casual in their choice of words. Lin was allowed to shake the man's hand, but while it was supposed to be a privilege, the king gripped his hand tightly and shook it roughly.

"So this is little Prince Lin," Merad said, amusedly. "I hope your grip gets stronger than that by the time you're big enough to hold a sword!"

The statement was said only half-jokingly, though it prompted laughs from his father and uncles. Lin simply nodded and bowed as he stepped back to return to his father's side.

"He's still young, there's nothing to worry about," Lars said lightly.

"Training's still just right around the corner," Merad commented. "Can't wait too long to start."

Lars and his brothers continued their conversation with the king, though Lin was never once brought into it. He wasn't particularly surprised, as they seldom bothered to listen to him even when they were home in Long Dau. It would be disrespectful to seem as though he wasn't paying attention to the conversation, but he still chanced subtly glancing around the throne room in greater detail.

The palace where he lived was of a formidable size, but Auj Oule's capitol was even larger. The ceiling seemed unreachable and the golden decorations around the throne glimmered in the light from the torches. The throne itself was situated quite a bit higher than the main floor, a constant reminder of the king's exalted position.

There was something about the castle that told him that he would return before long.


	2. Family Ties

Lin's mother was never the one to leave her son's side when he fell ill. He succumbed to colds at the start of almost every winter, something that gave his family quite a few scares in his earliest years. However, as he got older, they became progressively less concerned. His mother still stayed at his side though, even if her and her lady in waiting were the only ones.

His parents spoke in hushed tones, but even with how clouded his head was, he could still hear their conversation. Lars stood just outside the door to the prince's bedroom, but his mother had left the door slightly ajar to speak to him. She probably assumed that Lin was already asleep.

"He's ill _again_?" Lars asked irritably. "Is this going to happen every year?"

"He's still so young," Lien said firmly; she was one of the few people who would try to stand up to her husband. "It's just a bad cold."

"It's still weakness," Lars said.

Lin heard footsteps and a few more words from his mother that were too muffled for him to discern, but for his father, the conversation evidently ended with his last comment. Lars didn't respond again and Lien returned to the room, closing the door as quietly as possible. He could see a flash of worry on her face when she saw him open his eyes, but quickly covered it up with a smile.

"Is this going to happen again next year too?" Lin asked as he rolled over on his side, though it did nothing to ebb his dizziness.

"Don't worry about next year," she said kindly.

"That's probably a yes," he mumbled.

"You were born in spring, right when it was starting to get warm again," she said, smiling affectionately as she brushed his bangs away from his eyes. "It's only natural that you aren't fond of the cold."

"But Auj Oule is cold for most of the year," he said hoarsely.

"There are milder regions," she said, maintaining her calm demeanor. "The Kijara Seafalls are much warmer."

He listened as she described the location, though it was somehow more difficult to picture when his held felt so clouded. She did her best to distract him from the side effects of the fever as she motioned for her lady in waiting to recast spirit artes on the lamps. He couldn't sleep, but his mother still remained, heedless to the late hour.

~oOo~

Karla always snuck away from her chores and tutor to watch her brother's sparring rounds. He was better than all of the other young men in the tribe, to the point that he could hold his own against some of the veteran soldiers. He didn't win every round against the soldiers who were much older than him, but he was remarkably successful.

She'd try to accompany him when he'd go out to train, which usually ended in him carrying her on his shoulders while running instead of the weighted backpacks that other warriors in training used. As much as she enjoyed following him, he ordered her never to follow him into the Xagut Floodmeadow, as his excursions to that location were kept firmly secret from their other family members. The creatures in that area were far stronger than any others in the region, which made it dangerous for even trained soldiers to traverse. Regardless, it had become one of her brother's favorite places to practice since it provided a constant challenge.

However, as a young girl of the Outway tribe, she firmly believed that rules were meant to be broken. She kept a good distance behind her brother in hopes that he wouldn't notice her and her plan seemed to be successful as she cautiously rounded a rock outcropping jutting out from the ground in the middle of the road. The ground was becoming softer beneath her feet, a sure sign that they were nearly at the floodmeadow.

Once she was all the way around the turn, she looked around to see which way her brother had gone. She blinked and frowned when she didn't see him. She took another step forward, craning her neck to look all the way to her left without stepping out in plain sight. She felt a bit worried when she didn't spot him and instead saw several monsters making their way across the wetlands. She heard the faintest sound of movement behind her, but before she had even turned her head, two hands were beneath her arms and lifting her up.

" _Arst_!" she shrieked in objection.

"I believe I've told you at least five times not to follow me here," he said, his voice blank and unreadable.

He lifted her above his head and placed her on his shoulders too easily, as effortlessly as she would lift a doll, which prompted her to cross her arms and rest them atop his head.

"I just wanted to see what it looked like," she said with a pout.

"And now you've seen it."

"I want to see _more_ of it," she said irritably. "I want to see the river that goes all the way to Xian Du!"

"Maybe when we go to Xian Du with a proper entourage," he said, though she picked up the hint of dismissiveness in his tone.

"That's like _forever_ away."

He didn't reply as he turned around and started walking back in the direction they'd come from. She puffed out her cheeks even though he couldn't see her grumpy expression. Her other relatives always told her that she should be grateful that her brother was so patient with her, as anyone else probably would have yelled at her, but she was still unhappy that she didn't get what she wanted.

"Maybe means no," she said unhappily.

"Maybe means that it could happen," he said.

"I want to go," she sighed.

"We'll go eventually," he said, sounding resigned.

Somewhat satisfied that the maybe had changed to an eventually, she uncrossed her arms and made the best of enjoying the view from her brother's shoulders. He was tall for his age and being up so high was quite different from her usual line of vision.

~oOo~

The royal family indulged the prince's interests while he was small and too young to learn anything the tribe deemed more important. In the meantime, his mother insisted that they purchase books from both the distant regions of Auj Oule as well as Rashugal. Lars didn't police her spending very closely, largely out of disinterest for "feminine trifles" as he called them, which allowed many orders of art and trips to historic places.

They didn't leave Long Dau territory, but there were still countless places to see. There were shrines where Kresnik supposedly resided that were full of history and mythology, bazaars where tribes ruled by the Long Dau traded, memorialized battlefields where the Long Dau defended their land, and extravagant mausoleums dedicated to fallen heroes. While all the most expansive memorials were for the strong, he found himself increasingly interested in the battles that very few people were forthcoming about: the losses.

As much as the clan tried to omit them from their history or find outside excuses, the fact that the Long Dau did have its small share of losses was a clear sign that brute strength was not enough. He couldn't help but think of the esteemed tacticians of Rashugal, even if the respect held for them didn't go one inch past the borders between the countries.

At first, the officers of the Long Dau military were willing to answer the young prince's many, many questions. They almost seemed happy to and seemed to take it as a good sign that their future leader had such an active interest in the military at a young age. They weren't so thrilled when he heedlessly asked about their military failures, but they still dealt with him.

As weeks turned into months, the officers became increasingly less willing. Lin noticed how many of them would try to find duties that would keep them from carrying a conversation or took them away from the barracks when they saw him coming, but the young prince was undeterred. Nils would try to warn him to be more considerate, but Lin firmly believed that they couldn't have many more important duties when the smaller tribes didn't need any interference.

After a while, Lin started to know that there were a few specific officers who wouldn't send him off after about two minutes of him pestering them. The officers vying for promotions were the most tolerant, as they probably assumed that humoring the patriarch's son would be a small step toward getting their leader's approval. Unfortunately, they ended up also being the most unhelpful, since they managed to answer every question Lin had with some sort of elaborate account of a dull show of a strength that they accomplished.

Lin was careful to keep out of sight as he eavesdropped upon the conversation between Patriarch Lars and his chief of staff. The general was one of Lin's favorite people to question, but by the sound of the conversation, the general was very much done with the prince's questions.

"You have to hire tutors for Prince Lin," he said, sounding haggard.

Lars drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. "Why?"

"He won't leave my generals or me alone, he's full of so many questions about the military, our battles, the terrain…" the chief of staff explained, shaking his head slowly. "It's becoming a significant hassle."

"He's still too young to start training…" Lars said unsympathetically.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Lin's mother said with a smile. "It's an expense we can afford. Perhaps we can even find some tutors from Rashugal."

Both Lars and his chief of staff looked at her as though she had suggested something as preposterous as tearing down one of the golden statues of the previous patriarchs.

"We'll find scholars from _Auj Oule_ ," Lars said.

Though the idea of someone from their rival country was shot down before it was even considered, it was viewed as horrible enough to make Auj Oulian tutors seem like an acceptable alternative. Lin smiled at the sound of the good news and made up his mind to give his mother his best surprised expression when she shared the good news.

~oOo~

Lin's retainer was a primary example of how people were bound to the positions they were born in. Four years his senior, Nils Frieden was the son of Queen Lien Long Dau's lady in waiting. It was decided for him that he would be the future heir's personal servant, which placed him at Lin's side for as long as he could remember.

Despite his lack of choice in the matter, Nils was happy to serve the prince. Even when Lin was leading the way down the corridors for a late night trip to the library, Nils didn't object to his decisions. Lin carried a candle while Nils had a small lantern, illuminating the way with greater clarity. Nils always volunteered to take the lead, but as he wasn't quite as familiar as Lin was with the various routes into the library.

Though Lin was grateful for the older boy's supportiveness, he did wonder if Nils ever begrudged his obligations. The boy never once questioned the position he was given and didn't even seem bothered by it. In fact, it was the exact opposite for Nils: he always seemed genuinely happy and devoted to the role he was placed in. It was almost a shame to think that someone _wouldn't_ ever question a role they were forced into.

Education for a child of the Long Dau clan consisted of learning to read and write for communication's sake, studying the history of the Long Dau military triumphs, and most importantly, learning to fight. Even if someone was not expected to serve in the army, they were still expected to be proficient with a weapon.

Once a child knew the preferable side of the clan's history along with the common tongue, the rest of their education was focused upon learning to fight. Lin learned to read on his own through reading essays by Doctor Howe, often sitting with the scientist's book in his lap and a dictionary in his hand to learn the meanings of words he didn't recognize. When other children in the royal family were just learning how to read Long Dau, he already had a solid understanding of his mother language and was learning to read the common tongue.

Though Nils would accompany him to the library when he slipped away as often as possible, Lin's retainer did become somewhat bored once they were there, though he would always deny it feverishly. Once they were inside, Nils busied himself with lighting the chandeliers while Lin gathered a few books and dictionaries.

The library wasn't a very popular place in the Long Dau palace; they could light as many of the chandeliers and torches as needed and have them on as late into the night as they pleased. Throughout many evenings of doing just that, they still hadn't gotten caught.

While Lin was reading through a fairly new book from Rashugal, Nils was flipping through the pages of a book, though he seemed rather disinterested with its contents. Though Nils didn't complain about being bored, he would start to distract Lin with questions.

"Are you reading another book from Rashugal, Lin?"

"Yes, it's a new one," Lin corrected absentmindedly.

"So what's it about?"

"The Miracle of Procella," Lin replied, earning a blank look from his retainer. "You've heard about the Houses of Rashugal warring among themselves, right?"

Nils nodded. "A bit, they seem so much worse than Auj Oule's clans."

"Three of the Six Houses formed an alliance to fight against House Fenn, but they managed to fight off the three houses and defend their territory despite the numbers against them," he explained.

"House Fenn must have a really huge army," Nils commented, looking impressed.

"They didn't, they won thanks to their tactician's skills," he said. "Their forces were much smaller than that of the three allied houses."

He suddenly looked skeptical. "They tricked them?"

"No," Lin said, a bit quickly. "It isn't trickery, it's proper use of strategy. Their tactician was given the title of "The Conductor" after doing so well in defending the house's territory."

Nils still didn't seem quite convinced and went back to flipping through the pages of another book in Long Dau. Though it was a bit disappointing to see that even Nils had the mindset of the tribe's old ways, he knew he couldn't blame his retainer. It was harder to doubt traditions when everyone in higher positions made it clear that they didn't want to be questioned.

The library trips happened often, especially once Lin's tutors started to arrive in the capital. While Nils didn't find the lessons as fascinating as Lin did, he still stayed in the vicinity when his weapons training didn't pull him away. Lin was admittedly glad that he was still too young to start learning, as the combat training took many hours of the day away. Regardless, despite his age, he was wise enough not to voice such things to anyone in the clan. Even if he said it to someone unimportant, the information would somehow trickle back to his father and lead to repercussions he had no interest in dealing with.

While Nils was receiving an above average education simply because he spent so much time with Lin over the months with the tutors, his retainer was at the age where combat training took precedence. Subsequently, Nils wasn't as good at reading as the young prince was.

Lin glanced up from the map when he saw Nils running toward him with a book in his arms. He blinked, a bit surprised to see his retainer dashing toward him at top speed – especially considering he had a book, which usually didn't interest Nils much.

"Master Lin, I think I found a book on tactics with weapons!"

Nils was out of breath when he finally reached Lin, who looked up at him hopefully. Nils carried the book under his arm and grinned as he held it out to Lin proudly. The prince looked to the cover, which had whips, chains, and a few different types of swords displayed.

"It's in script though…" Nils trailed off. "I couldn't read much of it."

Lin's expression fell when he looked toward the title.

"What's wrong?" Nils asked, suddenly looking worried.

"…Nils," he said, trying to be tactful. "Could you read any of the title of this book?"

"Aren't the first couple words…men and women?" he asked innocently. "I didn't recognize the others."

"You're right about the beginning…but the rest…"

"What's it say?" Nils asked, sitting down on the grass beside him.

Lin looked at his curious expression and continued with great reluctance. "It says…well…"

Nils nodded, waiting to hear the rest.

"…It says 'Beneath the Sheets'," Lin said quietly.

Nils' face drained of all color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well…that was a lot of backstory! The bit about widdle Lin bothering the Long Dau military officers until Lars gave up and hired tutors for him was from his side story. Nils is an important character in Wingul's side story, he's the blond from that one official image with tiny Wingul.
> 
> In case anyone isn't brushed up on their Rashugali history, The Miracle of Procella was one of Rowen's significant accomplishments. It was mentioned in at least one skit in X1.
> 
> And of course, we can't forget one of Milla's favorite books, Men and Women Beneath the Sheets. I want this fic to feel connected to Xillia even if Wingul and Gaius' backstories are mostly addressed in side materials, so hopefully that was a fun way to accomplish that.


	3. All in Good Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some references in this chapter to the mythology of Auj Oule, the specific and not necessarily correct beliefs carried by the people of the country.

Arst's successes continued to accumulate, even if they were only on the scale of what a small tribe dealt with. He accompanied the clan's hunters on missions for practical combat experience with animals and monsters. The tribe was celebrating one of the seasonal holidays and brought all of the old lanterns out to illuminate the village green. They were of the same design as the ones that burned every night in the Long Dau capital, though they were older and some of the colors were faded.

Karla was dancing with the other young girls in a group off to the side of the dance floor. The clan was so small that age ranges of festival goers were extremely varied. Most of the people who came were families who brought everyone old enough to stand on their own two feet. The celebrations were always informal enough to draw out most of the town.

"She doesn't take after me at all," Patriarch Outway said, though he spoke fondly.

"Father?" Arst questioned.

"Don't you agree?" he asked, nodding toward her. "She looks just like her mother. She could pass as Long Dau."

Arst didn't comment. He looked back toward the festivities, though he was glad that the pretense of staying at his father's side pardoned him from taking part in some of them. He had no desire to join all of the people dancing under the colored lanterns.

"Do you remember what she looked like, Arst?" he asked.

"A bit," he said, though truthfully, he was more familiar with the portraits of her.

"I'm glad that the two of you at least share her eyes. Bet Karla will look identical once she's grown."

The thought seemed to comfort his father in some odd way, though Arst couldn't see why. Regardless of how similar they looked, they were not the same. It may have been the way the fires cast in the lanterns by spirit artes flickered, but the whole scene felt terribly ephemeral.

It wasn't until some hours later that the celebration finally started to break apart. Families with young children were the first to return to their homes, along with the older citizens of the territory. Karla stayed until each one of her friends left, though it was clear in her demeanor that being up and active so late had drained her.

She yawned and leaned against one of the tables casually and didn't even notice her brother approaching behind her. He was about to announce his presence when a better idea occurred. He tapped both of her shoulders at the same time, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Arst!" she exclaimed, whirling around.

"Ready to go home?" he asked.

"You clearly should have gone home earlier," she said indignantly. "You're supposed to trick  _other_  people, not your only sister. Your only sister in the world."

Despite her dramatic sarcasm, he stepped back and started walking toward the path that led to their home. She sighed, standing her ground for just a few seconds before hurrying after him. He walked quickly, even when he wasn't trying to, and it took her a few moments to catch up with him.

"You looked like you had tons of fun. Did you leave father's side even once?" she asked sarcastically.

"Twice, actually," he said matter-of-factly.

"I shudder to think of how boring all the celebrations will be once you're in charge."

"You can plan them then."

Though the town's channelers were busy extinguishing the lanterns in the village green, as they got farther away from the festivities, more of them were still lit. Though they were still shining brightly, the lanterns hung to mark the road were even more weathered. Some of them even had holes, as they weren't under as much scrutiny as the ones at the heart of the celebration.

He glanced back to see his sister trailing behind him slightly, glancing over her shoulder. There was still a chill in the air from winter, even if it was technically the start of spring.

"Are you getting right up at the crack of dawn again?" she asked.

"Of course."

"You could probably afford sleeping in one day."

"Not really, I need to prepare for the tournament."

She didn't reply right away. "Not the one in Xian Du."

"Yes, that one."

"You can't be planning on entering this one, you're too young," she said, though he could hear the edge of worry in her voice. "The next one, right?"

"The next one isn't for another ten years," he said. "I'm not waiting that long."

She kept questioning him as they got closer to their home, but all of his answers were similar. He expected her not to react well, but her voice got higher with every word she said. He at least wanted to end the conversation before she woke anyone up, but she clearly had spared no thought to that. He started to walk a bit quicker, but she kept pace with him and continued to bombard him with questions.

"It's too dangerous!" she insisted.

"I can't wait for the next tournament," he said, turning to face her when they reached the door. "I could be patriarch by then, I'd hardly be able to participate."

She stopped as suddenly as he did and stood her ground, her hands clenching into fists as she listened. She understood the implication of his words and her expression changed from one of worry to anger.

"Don't  _say_  that!" she shouted.

She pushed past him and jerked the door open. She scurried inside and proceeded to slam the door in his face. He scowled as he reached for the doorknob, but heard the click of the lock that was hardly ever used being fastened from the inside. He tried to pull the door open anyway, but unsurprisingly, it held fast.

"Karla," he said, though he heard her heavy footsteps dashing away.

It wasn't the first time she did something unreasonable when her temper got the better of her. He closed his eyes for a moment as he leaned against the door, quietly wondering which window would be the easiest to get into.

"At least she didn't throw anything," he muttered.

~oOo~

Karla swore to avoid her brother as much as possible after what he'd said, but that resolve had lasted all of a few days. She was still upset, but Arst was still leaving the chieftain's residence as soon as the sky was light enough to see by. The sun had yet to rise, but the sound of her brother's door opening and closing woke her up.

Strength was vital to success in Auj Oule, but it seemed to come to her brother quite naturally. While he spent many long hours training, he was experienced with several different types of swords, proficient with archery, and strong enough to defeat adversaries twice his age. On the rare occasion that the Outway territory was ever attacked by any monsters, he was involved in the counterattack immediately, even when their father advised against it.

He was the perfect future patriarch, though she still found herself worrying about him at times. She always pestered him to teach her at least some basics of combat, especially now that she was finally old enough to hold a sword – by the Long Dau's standards, at least. Some tribes would wait until children were nine or ten rather than seven or eight. However, it wasn't required for noblewomen to learn, and their father was against it for some reason she didn't bother to try understanding.

Though she was tired, she forced herself to rise and hurry over to the door. The floorboards were cool beneath her feet, but she didn't pay any attention to the cold, as it didn't particularly bother her. She caught her brother before he disappeared out of the corridor.

"Arst, you're leaving already?" she questioned, her voice carrying down the hall.

"You're going to wake father," he said as he turned to face her with a terse expression.

"You already woke me up," she countered.

"You may as well sleep longer, your tutor isn't up yet," he said, speaking quietly as he walked back over to her.

"I can't tag along with you?" she asked, trying to smile, as though things were perfectly normal. "Practice with some swords maybe?"

"Karla," he said, voice suddenly sounding tired. "You know where father stands with that."

"You make it sound like you listen to father about  _everything_ ," she said brusquely. "There was that time you didn't listen to him about feeding poranges to the cats and then their teeth glowed for a week. And the time we lit that collapsing cottage on fire. And-"

"Not  _today_ ," he interjected.

Though her brother was always of few words and generally wouldn't elaborate, she was the one person who didn't let him get away with incomplete answers.

"So then you'll start teaching me another day?" she asked hopefully. "I  _am_  old enough."

"Eventually, if you don't mention the cottage again," he said, before lowering his voice even more. "Father still thinks someone just left a lantern on in there."

Karla snickered and jokingly saluted him. "Right, understood."

He shook his head slightly as he turned away from her. Though she was satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, she still felt a bit forlorn to see him go. He wouldn't be back until after dark, as training and practice were more important than ever with his new plans. She tried not to think about them; she'd rather find ways to stay closer to her brother than let her mind stray to the ever growing distance between them.

~oOo~

Patriarch Lars was set to depart on a march to subjugate one of the tribes under the Long Dau that was unhappy with the current system of rule, but Lin didn't dwell on the fact, even when his tutor reminded him of it and explained a bit of the rebellious tribe's history. It was fairly common for Lars to go out to bother a tribe and make a great display of his power, even if the tribe wasn't so much as dreaming of rebelling.

When Lin finished with his tutor for the evening, he stepped out of the room to find his mother waiting for him. The sight of her in the hall made him instantly wonder if something was wrong; she would usually summon him to come to her rather than wait for him. She smiled, though her expression still seemed faintly worried.

"How was your lesson?" she asked.

"It went well," he said. "But what's going on?"

"I want you to come with me," she said.

She had the same worried smile as she held her hand out to him. He knew that she was behaving oddly, but it didn't give him any reason to doubt her. He took her hand and let her lead the way without bombarding her with questions.

She led him to the western wing of the castle, part of which was built over the river that ran through the capital. They walked over the enclosed bridge without speaking, with only the sound of rushing water and their own footsteps to stop silence from setting in. He couldn't help but think that she usually asked him more about his day and his studies, but didn't try to bring anything up himself. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere.

They arrived at the temple dedicated to Undine. Every stone used to build the shrine was a shade of blue and it had several fountains with water flowing from them around the clock. As Auj Oule's mythology revered the water spirit, they exalted her at a level close to the way they respected Maxwell himself. Undine's temple was the palace's most significant place of worship. That much was common knowledge to anyone there, even if they hadn't cracked open the cover of a book in ten years.

"Mother, why are we here?"

"To pray for your father and your uncle's safe return," she said, speaking of them warmly.

"Isn't this Undine's shrine?" he asked.

"Undine guides souls and helps them flow through the course of reincarnation," she said, though to him, it was superstition that he'd read in several books. "We pray to her to let our loved ones not take their next voyage just yet."

"But it's only confirmed that Undine is the Great Spirit of water, those who can summon her have made that clear," he said with a frown. "It's just mythology that Undine guides-"

"Lin," she interjected, her tone becoming firm, "no matter how scientifically countries like Rashugal look at spirits, they are sacred and holy."

She pulled him along quicker than before and did not speak against as she knelt down before the altar. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands in prayer. He reluctantly knelt down beside her, staring at her tense expression for a moment before looking up to the statue of Undine that towered above them. It felt pointless to pray to a spirit of water artes for protection, but he didn't dare to make a remark that the best it could do was maybe make for less rain, even his mother was the only one there.

~oOo~

Xian Du was a city of warriors, nestled in cliffs with stones as sharp as the blades on display in the street vendors' stalls. The Mon Highlands just beyond the city were the only thing colder than the swords clashing against one another. His younger sister was close at his heels, holding on to his hand with both of hers.

They approached the riverboat in silence. Their father had wanted to accompany them to the registration process, but found himself too weak after the length of the trip to Xian Du. While Karla was relieved that he was resting and not pushing himself too much, it did feel lonely to make the trip without him. Instead, she walked between her brother and one of the village elders.

"Aren't there any land routes that lead to the coliseum?" she asked disappointedly. "So that dad could ride a horse up the trail?"

"There isn't," Arst said.

"Why?" she asked sullenly. "That seems awfully impractical."

"The coliseum is a very important place," the elder began, taking on a tone that told her the explanation wouldn't be short. "The Great Spirit Undine is believed to carry to souls of the dead to Maxwell. As Undine is the spirit of water, the river is her dominion. By traveling down the river to the coliseum, you are being purified."

"Then would traveling by land mean you're getting purified by Gnome?" she asked smugly, proud that she remembered the name of another of the Great Spirits.

The elder frowned deeply. " _Karla._ "

"What?" she asked, a distinct whine in her voice.

The rest of their trip was made largely in silence. The elder answered a few more of Karla's questions, which ranged from sarcastic but somewhat curious to just purely sarcastic. While she was busy giving the old man a few more gray hairs, Arst's gaze stayed upon the coliseum. In the distance, it looked small, but the vastness of the structure became clear as they drew closer. He'd never made the trip down the river to the holy battleground, but just drawing nearer put a spark of energy in the air.

When they arrived at the coliseum, there was a representative waiting at the docks, documenting everyone who arrived. Arst climbed up onto the dock first, facing the person briefly before turning back to hold his hand out to his sister. She accepted and he pulled her up easily, but turning his attention away from the representative had offended the man.

"Name," he said shortly.

"Arst Outway," he said.

"Outway clan…" he trailed off, flipping through several pages of his book.

He rifled between pages for so long that the next boat arrived behind them before the representative finally found where the smaller clans of lesser importance were listed. Gondoliers ordinarily did not leave until the passengers they brought made it past the dock, which made the boatman behind them rather irritated at the wait.

"And what are you here for? To be a hand in the beast cages?" he asked, tone disinterested.

The question wasn't meant sarcastically, but it still offended Karla, who glared and huffed as she crossed her arms. Behind them, their father's retainer winced.

"I am here to register to participate in the tournament," he said simply.

The representative arched an eyebrow at him skeptically. "Are you related to the patriarch? Or are you one of those little tribes where everyone takes the tribe's name?"

"I am Patriarch Outway's son," he said with a deliberately flat tone.

"Well, as you wish," the man said as he stepped behind.

He pointed them toward the registration line, allowing them to pass at long last. Patriarch Outway's retainer apologized to the gondolier as he could finally depart from the dock. As Arst led the way over to the line, he felt his sister's small hand reaching for his once again. He clasped ahold of it as they reached the end of the line, which was some distance away from the coliseum desk. There were warriors from all over Auj Oule coming to take part; there was never any shortage of participants, as experienced warriors came from nearly every clan.

Karla stayed close to him as she surveyed al of the people in the long line. Many of them had different manners of dress, as some were from territories even farther north and subsequently colder than the Outway land. Many of the participants looking to sign up did not bring their younger family members along for the trip; the majority only came with a single comrade, usually a friend or another soldier.

"Do you have to fight all of these people?" she asked quietly.

"Not all of them, the matches don't work quite like that," he said.

"They look like they've been fighting for longer than five years…"

He didn't have anything to say to that; he couldn't disagree, as there was little doubt that most of the participants outscored him in amount of experience. She was too young to remember the last tournament, though truly, he was too. Some of the men and women who came were old enough to have already participated in the past ones, though not everyone survived to enter more than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit with Undine was the part that was specifically mythology of Auj Oule. We know it's not correct because of the events of X1 and X2, but when you talk to NPCs in the towns, one in Xian Du mentions that they believe Undine guides the reincarnation of souls. So don't be confused, it's just something that the conservative spirit worshippers of Auj Oule.
> 
> Also, since we're before the war, we're still before The Silencing (Milla's birth).
> 
> I did a little research on when knight training started in medieval times and the average age was seven or eight. Though Auj Oule had a very different system, I'm using the same ages for when tribes start training their children. In this fic, Arst starts at the earlier age of seven while Lin starts at eight.
> 
> Some notes on Karla…I'm going with the idea that noblewomen aren't required to learn to fight in the Outway but can if they so choose to. The tribes have some very antiquated practices, but since we see women in Auj Oule's army in he game, it's evident that girls were also trained to fight. I'm headcanoning that it was especially common in the smaller tribes that needed as many able bodies as possible defending the territory against bigger tribes and natural threats.


	4. Gentleness Lost

Lin was on his way to a session with his history tutor with Nils close at his side when he heard voices from down the hall adjacent to the one they were headed toward. Nils looked at him confusedly and started to open his mouth to ask questions, but the prince held a finger up to his lips to signal for silence. Lin frowned when he heard that one of his father's advisers was leaving to go pursue a marriage proposal to a girl from one of Auj Oule's minor tribes. The conversation was focused on the logistics of the trip to the backwater region, which left him only able to pick up scarce pieces of information.

Nils didn't speak until they continued down their usual route. "Something wrong?"

"Didn't you hear that?"

"It was something about an engagement…" he trailed off, "it didn't seem terribly important."

Lin paused to look down at the entourage forming in the courtyard, Nils nearly bumping into him. He felt a pang of pity for whoever the unfortunate girl was to receive a proposal from a pompous adviser late in his decade of life with few real accomplishments to show for his years. His uniform may have possessed many seals, but they were all meaningless titles for things like  _Esteemed Defender of the Palace_  or  _Senior Officer of Recruit Training._  It had as much meaning as calling one of the cats they kept around to catch the rats an  _Esteemed Defender_.

They were only words that looked prestigious but truly had no valor. On top of that, he knew exactly why the man wanted a wife from a minor tribe; he could have his pick of any woman he wanted and the patriarch would have no choice but to agree. Bearing the name of Long Dau promised that much.

"That poor girl isn't going to have any choice but to say yes, with the size of the entourage they're sending," Lin said, shaking his head.

"The entourage is a sign of the tribe's greatness, you know that," Nils said smile.

Lin didn't return it. "It's just a way to make sure that a small tribe can't even consider making any decision except for the one the Long Dau want them to."

"But it's so fortunate for the girl, how often do low born tribes have a chance to marry into the Long Dau?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

"It's just a way for us to manipulate and subjugate the weak tribes even more."

Nils couldn't bring himself to agree with the pessimism. "They're a poor tribe, she's bound to love all the riches of the capital. She must've done something really good in her last life for Undine to have put her in this position."

"That's just mythology," Lin said shortly. "There's absolutely no evidence a water spirit has anything to do with reincarnation.

"You could get spirited away for saying something like that!" Nils squeaked.

"That's pure superstition," Lin said, shaking his head.

"My mother says different," Nils said stubbornly.

"You still really believe that at your age?" he asked, snapping his book closed.

"I don't see why you don't! You read all sorts of stuff about spirits," he said, trying to rationalize his argument.

Lin stifled a sigh as he looked down at the procession. He had little doubt that whatever engagement gifts they were bringing along were far less than they would give if the bride was from the Long Dau instead of lowborn. The Long Dau avoided being disrespectful, but they were also just cunning enough to know that it wouldn't take as much to impress a small tribe as it would a highborn fiancée.

~oOo~

The Long Dau had a long standing tradition that combat training began as soon as children were strong enough and tall enough to lift swords. Though some citizens of Rashugal would blanch at the idea, it was customary in Auj Oule, and so no one questioned it. After reading books imported from their neighboring country, Lin didn't have much interest in taking part. Even when he stood in line with the other young boys from families deemed noble enough to constitute being trained by Yan Long Dau, he had no eagerness to take part. When he did not volunteer to take part in the first sparring exercises, his uncle went out of his way to find the prince in the palace and approached him with a dark glower.

"You can lift a sword, can't you?" Yan demanded.

Lin nodded reluctantly. Yan was not pleased to be stuck training the young members of nobility, but as Lin was now among their ranks, Patriarch Lars assigned his brother to conducting the training sessions.

"Then it's time to start training  _properly_ , not wasting your life away in a library," he said, holding the short sword out to the young boy. "Your father would be horrified if he knew how little time you spend sparring."

Lin took the weapon without objection, though it was also without eagerness. He at least wanted them to see reason, but the traditions of the Long Dau were too set in stone to be questioned. Boys were trained to fight as soon as they were tall enough to wield blades; that was simply the way his world worked.

"The training sessions are going to vary between using a real sword and a wooden sword," Yan said. "You need to take care of both blades."

He fumbled with attaching the hilt to his belt as he followed his uncle away. It was more difficult than it looked and despite the length, the sword still felt heavy to him. He eventually got the weapon in place, though he felt rather foolish with it.

"Keep the sword in its sheath when you're storing it and don't expect to bring it to practice on sparing days. At least not yet."

"The sheath is leather though," Lin said, prompting his uncle to peer over his shoulder at him.

"So?"

Lin hadn't expected the ignorant question. "Well…that's not the right way to store a sword."

"You've hardly used one and you know more?" his uncle asked, sounding entertained.

"Storing a sword in leather promotes corrosion," Lin said, taking on an even tone of voice to avoid seeming too disrespectful. "I read about it when researching Auj Oule's natural metal resources."

"If you were stronger, we could have given you a metal sheath," Yan said, as though to distract from his blunder.

Yan continued his lecture on the training regimens for the rest of the week, information that he supposed he should have been grateful for. His uncle fell silent suddenly when they rounded a corner. Lin was a few steps behind him, but hastened his pace when his uncle stopped. He glanced down at the prince before he resumed walking, albeit quicker than before.

Lin looked down the corridor and his eyes met with Bruno's briefly before he looked toward his mother. He avoided maintaining too much eye contact with Bruno, for just like his father, nearly anything could be misconstrued as disrespectful. His mother didn't have any such beliefs, but he couldn't help but notice differences in her appearance. She usually kept her hair back or up with designs of braids, but despite it being afternoon, it was falling freely around her shoulders.

"Ah, Bruno!" Yan said, though his tone sounded almost too casual. "Coming to see the new trainees?"

"You couldn't pay me to," Bruno said.

His mother looked surprised to see him, but she walked over to him quickly and knelt down before him, smiling as she usually did. "Do you feel ready, Lin?"

"Don't coddle him, Lien," Yan said shortly. "You already made sure he didn't start at seven like his father did."

"It can't be put off any later than eight," Bruno agreed.

"The demands placed upon such small children would make people in Rashugal blanch," she retorted.

"We're not in Rashugal," Yan said, sounding almost amused by the reasoning.

"You have no idea children in the small tribes start training," Bruno said, pausing to smirk, as though he had some grand joke to tell. "There's a rumor that a  _twelve_ year old wants to take part in the tournament."

Yan laughed, a seldom heard, rumbling sound. "I hope they have wyvern cubs to enjoy his body, a fully grown wyvern wouldn't even get a meal out of him."

The two brothers shared a laugh, though her only reaction was a look of faint disapproval before she looked back her to her son. She offered some words of reassurance, though they had to be rushed, as Yan was eager to keep on schedule. When he continued on with his uncle, he couldn't connect with any of the looks of eagerness on the other new trainees' faces.

Though so many of the children were just barely tall enough to wield swords, the training was still grueling. They were only given brief breaks to drink water and instructed to carry out strict regimens of strength training. On top of that, Yan was already discussing how soon they would be instructed to spar against each other.

The training left his limbs aching and areas of the skin on his hands rubbed raw from wielding too much in a time frame too short to allow callouses to form.

Regardless, it was a daily requirement for any child born into Long Dau nobility.

~oOo~

Though Karla was once so eager to go to Xian Du, she found herself feeling relieved when they returned to Outway territory. Registration took place several weeks before the actual tournament, giving the hosts of the event time to match up participants and giving the fighters themselves additional time to prepare.

When they reached the town square, where their father waited for them, it was her who he looked at with clouded eyes rather than her brother. She greeted him with an embrace, but he remained distant. She didn't see much more of him throughout the day, as he had a great deal to discuss in her brother.

At the time, she guessed that it was simply because they needed to talk about the tournament, but she became suspicious when Arst woke her up before dawn, with the news that he was finally going to teach her to use a sword. She scrambled to get ready and followed him to a training area farther from the town than his usual ones, though it was difficult for her not to question his sudden change of heart on the matter.

"You need to hold it like this," he instructed, demonstrating the proper grip. "It may only be a short sword, but the way you hold it is still important."

She tried to mimic the grip he showed her, and while she was absolutely certain it was close enough, it evidently wasn't close enough for his liking. He sheathed his blade and came over to adjust the positions of her fingers. She couldn't help but notice that his hands felt rougher than ever, with more callouses from training so constantly.

"Can't you show me with a proper sword?"

"A short blade with be easier for you to hide," he said, his voice calm, despite having to correct her hold for what felt like the dozenth time. "Father wouldn't approve of you learning to fight."

"I don't see why," she sighed. "There are plenty of women among the guards and hunters. I'm sure there are even more in the capital's army."

"It's just not something they wanted for you."

"And why not?"

"They just didn't feel that the daughter of the patriarch should have to learn," he said, trying to end the discussion.

Karla was never one to let a topic die before she got her way. "Then why aren't you honoring their wishes?"

"Auj Oule isn't a peaceful country. You should learn the basics, should your guards ever fail you," he said, stepping back to stand opposite her. "Now, there are specific ways to guard against attacks. I'll show you the best stances."

She listened to his explanation, feeling distracted by how much older he sounded when he spoke about the country so frankly. She followed his instructions but still couldn't shake the feeling that he knew something he wasn't sharing with her. She was left out of politics too often for her liking. She was aware that her father didn't want to force them to grow up any faster than the state of the country pushed them to, but there were times when she was discontent with being shielded.

~oOo~

Lin could always hear them talking about him; his sense of hearing was keen and they simply did not care to go to great lengths to hide their disapproval. Between those two factors, he heard complaints far more often than compliments.

"They're saying he's intelligent, but…" Yan paused, shaking his head.

"He needs to be strong if he's going to control the confederation of mountain clans."

"He isn't strong enough," Yan agreed. "He doesn't win any of the sparring matches between the boys his age."

"A high born son like him should be winning every single one," Lars sighed. "She was barren for years and now we have him."

Part of him did wish that his father wouldn't have said such things if he knew that his son was listening. Unfortunately, his wiser side knew that Lars didn't care to hide his disappointment. He made his dissatisfaction in Lin's progress very clear as they reached the courtyard, where many of the other boys were already warming up. So many of them took on additional practice beyond the regimen requirements, but Lin wasn't one of them.

The sparring match up process was carried out with enough ceremonial nonsense that Lin would have been yawning if the mood was any less tense. He could feel his father's eyes following him as he approached Yan, who had a particularly ornate rapier waiting for the prince. There were gems along the hilt and even a few on the side of the blade, but once the weapon was deposited into Lin's hands, he realize that the added decorations made the blade notably heavier. His arms drooped a few inches when Yan dropped it into his hands, which stirred a scoff from Lars.

"Fight to disarm," Yan instructed. "Each pair will fight three rounds. Whoever wins two or more will be the victor."

The boy Lin was matched against was notably taller and bulkier than he was, even though they were supposedly the same age. They bowed to each other and waited for the signal to come from Yan for the round to start before they drew their weapons. Lin's opponent had a plain sword and drew it easily, while the tip of Lin's dipped as soon as he pulled it from the sheath.

The sloppy draw gave the other boy the perfect chance to lash out with a first strike. Lin tightened his grip on the hilt as he lifted the heavy sword to defend, but the other boy's first attack was a powerful one. Their swords clashed with such force that the downward strike jerked the blade from Lin's hands. A sick feeling rose up in the back of Lin's throat as he looked down to see the sword clattering to the ground.

"Round one is decided! Sheath your blades and return to starting positions," Yan ordered.

Lin could hear a few muffled chuckles from the other trainees and spectators, though he couldn't hear his father's voice among them. He didn't dare to look in his father's direction as he picked the sword back up and returned it to its sheath. He straightened and moved back into position swiftly, just a step ahead of his opponent.

When Yan gave the signal for the second round to begin, Lin was careful not to repeat his initial mistake. He was prepared for the weight of the unfamiliar blade and prepared for a second downward attack from above. The other boy didn't vary his strategy or approach and carried out the same move as before. This time, Lin placed his free hand against the flat of the sword to defend the initial attack with enough strength not to falter.

Realizing that he wouldn't be able to break Lin's guard, the other boy pulled back first. He scowled at Lin as the prince countered with a swift attack that the other boy struggled to evade. Their swords clashed twice more, but each time Lin successfully made an attack, he couldn't put enough force behind the assault to knock the sword from his opponent's grip.

When the other boy struck again, Lin parried the attack then fell back, putting several feet of distance between them in no time. The other boy was surprised that Lin didn't simply counterattack. Lin ducked another attack and turned around, leading his opponent toward the stone edge of the arena. Lin stopped when his back was to the chest high stone edge, but the other boy only saw the movement as a sign that he had Lin cornered.

When he reached Lin, the prince swiped dangerously close to the hilt of his opponent's sword. The close attack was enough to spook the other boy, who quickly responded with an attack from above. Lin made no attempt to guard against the attack and ducked out of the way instead, letting his adversary put the full force of his attack into a blow that simply came down upon the stone. The edge of the blade dug into the rock and when he tried to pull it free, it held fast. Lin straightened, smiling smugly as he stepped back to admire the simple trap.

"Stop!" Lars called out. "Restart the round. Trickery does not constitute victory."

Lin turned around to look toward his father, but the patriarch's expression only burned with disapproval. He searched his father's expression for some trace of sympathy or apology, but he only looked legitimately disappointed. Lin's opponent seemed rather satisfied with the suddenly overturned result, but even as they got back into position, Lin could still feel his father's eyes boring into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for POV jumping so much this chapter! There'll be less next time, I'm trying to get through this leg of the timeline quickly but without rushing too much.
> 
> And Merry Christmas!


	5. Engagement

When a nobleman from the Long Dau showed an interest in marrying Karla Outway, the clan had no choice but to humor the request. The news made Arst uneasy; their father had not wanted to force his only daughter into an arranged marriage, but the Long Dau were powerful and close to the king. Conversely, the Outway clan was so weakly regarded that even Arst's father with his rank of patriarch would have very little chance of speaking with King Melard in person.

Though the tribe was wary to comply with the demand, there was little choice in the matter.

"Karla, are you ready?" Arst called out, waiting outside the curtain that led into her room.

"I suppose so…" she trailed off. "You can come in."

The room was such a mess that Arst briefly wondered if there was funding anywhere for his younger sister to have a lady in waiting. There were discarded dresses strewn about every surface and pieces of jewelry that she'd evidently decided against wearing dropped carelessly on top of them. She didn't have all that many choices when it came to formal attire, but it looked as though every piece she owned was pulled out and tossed aside.

She was wearing her best dress and someone had taken the time to style her hair elegantly as well as decorate her face with makeup. She looked a bit older, but the sight only made him feel even more discontent with the situation. Seeing his sister, still so small and young, dressed up to be a political pawn only made him resent the binds of tradition.

"They're about to arrive," he said, falling back on relaying general information.

"Could you help me with the last tie on the collar of this dress?" she asked, pulling at the high collar. "I can't reach it."

He complied wordlessly and walked over as she pulled her hair to the front. A thin ribbon that shined slightly in the light went around the high collar of the dress. If she was upset with the day's events to come, she didn't let her expression show it. Her face reflected in the mirror was calmer than his.

"This looks uncomfortable, why have something tie around your neck?" he asked.

"Auntie said it's customary," she said casually. "Don't tie it in a knot, it has to be a bow."

He grumbled a curse in Long Dau as he undid the knot and started to retie it properly. She fidgeted impatiently, but the smooth fabric was more difficult to tie than it looked like it would be. The dress looked like the one some of the older pictures of their mother was painted in.

"Why do you try to learn Long Dau if they bother you so much?" she asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation.

"They fall back on their mother tongue when discussing things they don't want others to hear."

"So you want to know all the details of their private conversations," she said.

"I want to be aware of whatever they're plotting."

"Then you should learn more than just the curses."

He finished with the bow and stepped back. It wasn't quite symmetrical, but it was largely covered by her hair. She adjusted her hair a bit more in the mirror, primping everything to be perfect. She paid more attention than she ordinarily did to making sure that her dress fit properly.

"The Long Dau have nothing to gain from this," he said, shaking his head.

"Maybe my fiancé just favors me," she retorted.

She was strong enough to try and take an optimistic look at things, but he couldn't share any such disillusions. Whether the man had personal interests in her or if the Long Dau simply wanted to have her as a hostage to ensure they would be subjugated for another generation, Arst didn't approve of either scenario.

They were thoughts he couldn't voice when a servant came to inform him that he needed to join his father at the front of the greeting procession.

No one was particularly thrilled when the young man from the Long Dau royal family arrived in the Outway territories. When Arst saw him leading the procession, he at first hoped that this man was the father of his sister's fiancé; he was well into his second decade. His military uniform was decorated with seals and ribbons for accomplishments that had clearly gone to the man's head, as revealed in his confident smirk and stroll. He looked down at every person he passed, well aware that his political influence outweighed even that of the Outway Patriarch.

When he dismounted from his horse, he did not bother to bow to Arst's father. They welcomed him with respect, though Arst found himself contemplating how easy it would be to break the man's fingers the first time they shook hands. The man's hands were as fair and unblemished as a noblewoman's and his smile was nearly as fake as a painting's.

"So you're my fiancee's brother, correct?" he asked, sounding almost smug.

He could probably break at least two without even twisting them back – "That's correct."

"I can't wait to meet her," he said with a smirk.

Arst let go, firmly reminding himself to treat the man courteously. It remained difficult; the man may have been nobility, and from Auj Oule's strongest tribe, but he was still nearly two decades his sister's senior. He was like an intruder in the Outway territory, but still walked with the confident swagger of someone from a family with enough gald to buy and island.

His showiness wasn't well received by the people of a tribe that still dealt with issues like gathering enough food to get through the winter, but no one could be too upfront about their distain. Regardless, even the gifts from the Long Dau clan matched their love for lavish things. All of the presents were items from the capital or trinkets imported from Rashugal. While there were things that Karla would like, such as a jeweled comb that was evidently so expensive that it warranted being carried in a glass case from the wagons, they were still useless objects.

As custom guided, Karla was introduced to her fiancé for the first time at dusk, just before dinner was served. He greeted her with ostentatious shows of affection, if it could be called that, and dropped to one knee to kiss her hand. Worst of all, the way her cheeks flushed crimson revealed that she was falling to the artificial charm.

Karla and her fiancé were seated across from each other at the dinner table while Arst had the displeasure of sitting beside the man. His military badges jingled when they clinked against other medals and badges. As the meal went on, the sound grated on his nerves incessantly.

New lanterns were purchased from two villages over to decorate the dining hall for the arrival of the Long Dau entourage. The colored paper that encased them was more vibrant than the faded, old lanterns with small holes that let light out unfiltered. Instead of polishing the old silver wear, a new set had been purchased for the occasion.

"Patriarch Lars was surrounded by a dozen soldiers when I arrived," he boasted to Karla, who looked enthralled with his storytelling. "You'll never see a more relieved face on a man as proud as the Long Dau patriarch as his was right then."

"That's amazing!" Karla said, far too impressed

She was too young to see through the way he vaunted his experiences, but both Arst and his father looked rather disinterested in the conversation. Patriarch Outway was respectful enough to occasionally comment politely, but even then, the Long Dau visitor's attention was largely focused upon Karla.

"It was from that victory that Lars awarded me with this medal," he said as he leaned back from the table to show off one of his shining awards. "You can imagine the hero's welcome I received when we returned to the capital."

"I've never been to the capital," she said, sounding almost wistful. "Did a lot of people come to witness your return?"

"Hundreds, if not a thousand!"

Karla smiled and Arst took that moment to interject. "And how many soldiers did you say surrounded Patriarch Outway?"

"Dozens," he said with a somber nod.

Arst didn't let his expression betray how ridiculous it was that _a dozen_  turned into  _dozens_  within just a few minutes of embellished storytelling. Karla noticed and glanced over at her brother wearing a frown, though her fiancé didn't so much as notice the mistake. If their father did, he didn't let it show.

The dinner was far from being relaxed, but nothing particularly unexpected happened. Long Dau guards remained visible at the entrances of the dining hall all throughout the evening, unwavering in their positions. There were Outway guards posted outside as well, but it was unspoken yet evident that guards from a small clan weren't perceived to be capable enough.

~oOo~

Lin couldn't quite peg when his relatives stopped boasting about him, but it wasn't too long after his interest in academics outweighed his talent for fighting. He took part in the training sessions that were mandatory for a prince and did fairly well, but fighting didn't come to him naturally. He only became proficient with the sword from long hours of practice and training.

He woke up to hear an argument that was only half hushed. It only took him a moment to realize that he'd fallen asleep on one of the couches in the library, surrounded by books from Rashugal. He started to open his eyes but stopped when he heard his father's voice, who made no attempt to be quiet.

"You have to stop supporting  _this_ ," Lars said, in disgust.

" _This_?" his mother echoed, trying to sound firm while not raising her voice too high. "You mean his education?"

"At this age, the only things he should be learning are sword skills and what he'll need to know to be patriarch."

Lin glanced around the library, looking for anything that would give him an idea of how late it was. Only darkness came in through the windows and there weren't any clocks nearby. His gaze lingering on the candles, which were burned down low, while some had their flames extinguished from their height being reduced to a puddle of drying wax.

"Noble children in Rashugal receive much better education," she argued.

"And what does that get him?" he asked sharply. "The Six Ruling Houses fight as much as our clans, they just pretend they're superior."

"That hardly means that learning more about both countries won't help him," she retorted.

"He's got Nils supporting this, can't you talk to your lady in waiting to discipline him? He doesn't have a retainer to go astray like this."

" _Learning_  is  _not_  going astray," she said stubbornly.

Lin closed the book he'd fallen asleep reading and sat up, deciding the argument went too far without his input, but his father fell silent as soon as he saw him stir. Lars stepped away from his mother and stormed out of the room before Lin could even say his part. The prince's shoulders fell slightly as the patriarch disappeared out of the library. His mother sighed at his father's abrupt exit and walked over to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want him to wake you up," she said sympathetically. "You aren't doing anything wrong, Lin."

He didn't comment as he started to gather his books and dictionaries. She came over to his side and placed her hand on his shoulder as he started to lift a stack of books that was a little too large for him. She smiled sadly as he did his best not to show that he'd taken on too much and lifted a couple of the books off the top, so that he could see over the pile.

"I didn't need help," he said.

"Of course you didn't," she said, ruffling his hair gently. "Perhaps we should wake Nils up? You'll both sleep much better in your actual rooms."

Lin glanced over to where his retainer was surprisingly deeply, in an awkward position sitting on the floor with his head resting against a couch cushion. Uncomfortable was the kindest word that could be used to describe the position.

"He'd stay there all night," he said blankly.

Lin put the books aside to shake Nils awake, who startled when awoken. Though Nils slept deeply, once he was up, he was wide awake and insisting that Lin didn't carry any of the books. Lien hung back and followed at a distance after her son and his retainer while they bickered over book weights. There was something about the peacefulness of the hour that felt fleeting.

~oOo~

Karla's fiancé lingered to speak with her father and brother after she retired for the evening. Most of the conversation was political, but he was not forthcoming on Long Dau affairs. He answered questions when asked things directly, though too much of the conversation was focused on the tension with Rashugal and matters of the Outway territory.

"Have you had any altercations with Rashugal?"

"No, we're not that close to the coast," Arst said simply.

"You'd be surprised, their reach is deep,"

"Well, I know this is rather bold for my first day here, but I'm concerned for Karla's safety here, now that word of our engagement is sure to spread."

"We may not be a large tribe, but our warriors are experienced and strong," Patriarch Outway assured.

"Even so, there will be more attention on your tribe with this union to the Long Dau. I would like to bring her back to the Long Dau capital with me," he said as he set his wine glass down on the table.

"Do you realize how young she is?" Arst asked sharply.

His father winced at his sudden outspokenness, but in that moment, he didn't particularly care. Their visitor looked over at him with one eyebrow arched above an expression even colder than the ice in his drink.

"Excuse me?" he asked, pretending that he hadn't fully understood the question.

"Please, forgive my son," Patriarch Outway said with an apologetic smile. "Karla and Arst are very close. Would you consider waiting until after the matters with Rashugal have calmed?"

"She'll be safer in the capital, the situation with Rashugal is fragile," he said with an innocent wave of his hand. "Why do you think I wish for her to come with me?"

"Our defenses here are sound," Arst said, though he was able to keep his tone level. "Is there a reason to accelerate the arrangement?"

"They don't even compare to what we have in our capital," he said amusedly, ignoring the question. "I live in Patriarch Lars Long Dau's castle, there is no safer place."

"We appreciate your concern for her safety," Patriarch Outway said tactfully, "but we would rather not send her away so suddenly. There isn't even a date set for the marriage."

"That can all be arranged. I need not remind you of how much your clan will benefit from this marriage," he said, the edge of smugness seeping back into his tone.

Patriarch Outway tried to dissuade their visitor, but any suggestions to send her to the capital at a later date were met with a reminder that the trip would be safest with the Long Dau entourage. It wasn't long before the Long Dau clansman rose from the table and bid them good night, with a comment that he hoped they would be able to come to a final decision in the morning. The Long Dau guards finally left along with their lord, flanking him out the door while the captain of the guard stayed closest.

"Jimu'ti baididiya, tuya rididu," the captain said quietly. "Tian'ya'ruru sovutuuti."

Arst could barely hear all of his sister's fiancé's response as he disappeared from the room. "Tian'ya'din baesutiumugu tuya tiutun'."

He didn't hear the response well enough to discern any recognizable words, but he was able to pick up on the guard's assured tone when he spoke the Long Dau word for  _submit._  The meaning of the rest of his words could be gleaned from that alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I read lines in Long Dau, I feel like they should be getting screamed.
> 
> …I wonder why. =w=
> 
> "Jimu'ti baididiya, tuya rididu" = "Don't worry, my lord"
> 
> "Tian'ya'ruru sovutuuti" = "They'll submit"
> 
> "Tian'ya'din baesutiumugu tuya tiutun'" = "They're wasting my time."
> 
> This leg of the timeline isn't mentioned in much detail in the backstories, but all this is leading up to the plot points that are shown at greater length.


End file.
